


We Came To Dance

by Yekith



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drama, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prom, Romance, prank, teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yekith/pseuds/Yekith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In spite of it all, they did have their prom night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frank.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Challenge 03 at picturethis_mcr on Livejournal. This was the inspirational pic that time: http://i46.tinypic.com/14jmdkl.jpg
> 
> The tittle belongs to The Gaslight Anthem, although this wasn't inspired by that song.
> 
> I tried something different with the point of view here. The first two parts are written in first person, one for each character's point of view. But the last part is in third person.

"Frank, honey...are you sure about the color?" my mother asked as I nervously straightened the light pink, denim jacket in front of the living room mirror.  
  
Truth is, I wasn't. I liked the color, but I had enough with being forced to dress more or less formally -which I hated- for this occasion. I would have rather chosen a color that wasn't going to attract everybody's attention or provoke even more of those hateful remarks I was so used to. But Jake had told me he loved how pink looked on me, I could have sworn his eyes shined with hope when he asked me if I'd wear that color for prom night. How could I refuse? He had made my dream come true when he invited me. Not even in my craziest daydreams I would have imagined being asked to prom by the boy I'd had a crush on for two years. He had come to me in between classes, pushed me into a bathroom stall and kissed me before whispering those words in my ear. The ones that made my knees weak and my voice so useless that I could only nod dumbly.  
  
"Yes, mom. Told you, Ja...Jenny and I agreed to match color. Be thankful that I'm not wearing the whole suit! Glad I found this denim one, but even so...pink pants is a little too much. I prefer black, thank you very much," I replied, now fixing my chin-length hair.  
  
The new haircut made me look cool, I had to admit; that was a thought that didn't cross my mind too often. It was even straight thanks to my mom's assistance, although I knew it would start to curl under the heat of the lights and the sweat. Oh well, the first impression was the most important, right? Only one problem: my fringe was now shorter and determined to cover my right eye, and Jake had said he loved my eyes! However, it resulted to be nothing a little bit of gel couldn't fix. I quickly applied some eyeliner and I was ready to go.  
  
"I don't understand what it is with boys and make-up nowadays..." Mom shook her head. "When your father and I were young n..."  
  
"Moooom...!" I whined. I had heard the same story every time I was getting ready to go out.  
  
"Okay, okay! Sure you don't want me to drive you both?"  
  
"Yes, I am, you only want to do that so you can meet Jenny. Not gonna happen! I already explained to you ten times that Jake will come pick me up and then we'll go for both our dates and..." I stopped, arching an eyebrow at her expression -mouth half open and index finger raised. "Don't you dare tell me to be home by a certain hour, it's prom night for fuck's sake!"  
  
"Frank Iero, watch your mouth!"  
  
"Sowry!" I smiled sweetly, kissing her cheek.  
  
She sighed. "I can't stay mad at you. You know that, don't you?"  
  
"Of course, that's because I'm your favorite son. And no, 'you're my only son' is not a valid comeback, you know that even if you had eight kids, I'd _still_ be your favorite. And..." My ears caught the heavenly sound of a horn, the sudden pounding inside my chest menacing to betray my fake confidence. "...I'd stay to discuss my awesomeness but this is kind of an important night."  
  
Mom now laughed, hugging me loosely, careful not to ruin my clothes or my hair because she knew how hysterical that made me. "Have fun, son...and be a good boy!"  
  
"I will!" I excitedly ran to the door, hurriedly closing it behind me once I crossed it so my mother would get the hint that I didn't want her waving at us from the porch.  
  
******  
  
I was expecting Jake to get out of the car and open the door for me like a gentleman, but he merely unlocked it and signed for me to get in. I guessed I had watched too many romantic movies.  
  
"Hi," I murmured quietly. I always turned into an idiot in front of him and specially now, seeing him dressed like that for the first time. His dark hair was spiked up and glistening, his blue eyes pierced me. So attractive, so hot.  
  
"Hi, Frankie." He smirked. "You look...pretty."  
  
"Thanks." I beamed. I was such an embarrassing person. "You too. I mean...you look handsome all in black and elegant and...uh...yeah. Great."  
  
He just nodded, that weird grin still present on his lips. An uneasy feeling attacked me and I shuddered.  
  
"Are you cold?" he asked politely, glancing at me sideways.  
  
"N-no...just nervous that's all."  
  
"Don't be, we'll have a great night." He winked. "Oh and...sorry that I didn't open the door for you, I just thought you wouldn't want your mom to see?"  
  
Stupid me, I should have thought that's why he didn't do it! I hadn't told my parents I was gay yet. I had the feeling it wouldn't be much of a problem, they probably already suspected it, but I didn't want to risk it just before prom night. "It's okay, I figured," I lied. Something was still not right...  
  
After an uncomfortable silence that lasted for about five minutes, he hit the brakes hasty at a stop light and leaned towards me. I first thought I'd seen lust in the way he looked at me, but then he showed doubt so I closed my eyes, encouraging him to do what I hoped he had in mind. When I finally felt his lips on mine and reacted to the kiss, it was over. The car was moving again. Did he time it? No, he was probably just as nervous as I was. He had kissed me passionately in the bathroom stall, he'd rubbed his tongue against mine for some seconds. Why wouldn't he want to kiss me now?  
  
"You okay?" Jake questioned, probably noticing my disappointment. I couldn't let him know what an insecure, silly girl I was being.  
  
"Yes...fine. Just..do you think everybody's gonna take this well at the dance?" I pointed to us. I wasn't lying, really. I was, in part, afraid of people's reaction, even though my joy hadn't given me much time to think about it until now. Suddenly everything felt like not such a good idea.  
  
"No one's going to hurt you, Frankie, I'll make that sure," was his answer, not what I was waiting to hear. Something was off. No one had _ever_ hurt me, not physically and I was thankful for that. Therefore I had no reason to be afraid of it happening today, but I didn't want one of the most important nights of my life to end up in humiliation.  
  
"Thanks..."  
  
Nothing else was said until we were two blocks from our school. Only Jake's tapping on the wheel and my nervous sniffs were heard. We were supposed to turn round the corner, but he instead continued along the same street.  
  
"Uh...Jake? You missed the turn..." I remarked timidly. He looked at me with that same creepy smile.  
  
"No, I didn't miss it, gotta go somewhere else first."  
  
"B-but you said we didn't have to pick anybody else up," I stammered.  
  
"And we aren't."  
  
"Then what...?"  
  
"We're there," Jake announced, the car coming to a halt. I realised we were at the nearby park. That place had always scared me. It was where gangs gathered at night to drink and get high. The once fancy lamps were now covered in spray-paint and the bulbs had been pelted with stones so many times that no one bothered to replace them anymore. The only light came from the moon and the stores across the street, though those didn't illuminate too far.  
  
"What are we doing here?" My voice came out shaky, small. This couldn't be good, and I was trying hard to deny what my common sense was telling me. Hell, I should have listened to it earlier, but I just _had_ to be so gullible and believe him when he said the insults had always been a cover-up. "It was all a joke, wasn't it?"  
  
"Shh..." he hushed me, I finger on my lips. Next he abandoned the car. I unlocked the door and pushed at it with all my strength, but it didn't yield. A tap on the glass startled me, and I looked up to see Jake's face staring at me amused. The door was easily opened and I was dragged out, a firm hand around my arm. "It only opens from the outside. See? I can be a gentleman when I want to."  
  
"P-please...let me go, I won't tell anyone that you ever invited me, I promise!" I begged.   
  
He laughed. "Do you think anyone would believe you, anyway? Let's go, walk."  
  
"No please I...where are we going?" The big effort I was doing to stop myself from crying made me sound like a little kid, and I could see Jake was enjoying my fear.  
  
"Jeez!" he exclaimed. "I guess asking you to man up and stop whining is a lost cause, isn't it? Okay. Since I'm a nice guy I'm going to tell you: my friends wanted me to bring you here with me so we could all had some fun before the dance."  
  
"What kind of fun?"  
  
"They're waiting for us. We think you need to make some male friends so you stop hanging out with the girls."  
  
We had been walking towards the center of the park, to a clear among the trees. Lifting my head for the first time, I saw three of Jake's buddies dressed in the expected black suits. There were beer bottles in their hands and what seemed to be a plastic bag at their feet.  
  
"I don't want to drink, j-just let me go home!" I demanded in a whisper.  
  
"What took you so long, Jake? The babes are waiting!" a blond guy I recognized as Dave Stevenson spoke. He was the one who always asked me when I'd get a sex change and graduate as a girl. "Did you take little Frankie to an appointment with the genital-surgeon?"  
  
"Nah, maybe next time, he's just too damn slow to walk!" Jake answered. "Let's get the party started, boys, it's the only one this tiny pansy will take part of tonight."  
  
Right after saying that he released me from his vicious grip, but there was no way I could escape; I was surrounded by the four of them. I tried to slap, punch, kick, but they just came closer and since they were all much taller than me I couldn't do any damage. The biggest of them -Ed- captured both my hands behind my back, a sharp scream emerging from my throat due to the brutality he employed.  
  
"Shut it!" Dave slapped me. "I wonder if you scream like that when fucked up your ass..."  
  
"I considered giving it a try, but I don't think my stomach could take it." Jake chuckled. "If you guys want to, though, go ahead!"  
  
"Maybe...what do you think, Chad?" came Ed's voice from behind me.  
  
All the hairs on my body bristled. My heart accelerated, my breath came out ragged. The worst scenario played in my head and I again attempted to get free, only resulting in Ed squeezing my wrists harder. This time I made no sound, tears running silently down my cheeks.  
  
"Well...I'm not into guys, but..." I could _feel_ Chad's eyes on me as he scrutinized me. "...I could always pretend. Hey! Nice tight pants!"  
  
"Oh yes, they do wonders for your ass, Frankie!" Dave stroke my butt.  
  
"Don't...touch me!" I growled, teeth clenched. Laughter erupted from around me.  
  
"Awww! The gay dwarf has character!" Jake cooed. "No one who dares wear this pink shit can be taken seriously, darling."  
  
" _You_ asked me to wear it," I spat.  
  
"Does anything I could have said -or done- matter at this point?"  
  
"I guess not..." I admitted defeat.  
  
"Dave, do your part!" Ed screamed, letting my hands go. Once again I had no luck. Dave's foot collided with my chest and I fell to the grass.  
  
It didn't hurt, but then he was over me, seemingly deciding his next step. I hated the vulnerable position in which I was, and when his hand teased my belt I thought my world was over.  
  
"Scared you, uh?" He smirked, that same hand now grabbing my thin black tie instead. "Luckily for you, I don't rape fags, but I've still got you a graduation present!"  
  
He tugged at the tie, my airways closing by the second. With eyes big as plates I saw Dave raise his fist and aim it to my face, but just when it was about to be discharged another hand stopped it. Jake's.  
  
"We didn't agree to that," he said. "Wouldn't make us any more man than he is, now, would it?"  
  
I gave Jake a questioning look, but he ignored me. He had kept his promise, after all. "Can I go, then?" I asked, coughing as I loosened the tie.  
  
"Not that fast, Frankie boy!" Jake petted my head as if I was a dog. "Guys, get the jacket, we're keeping it as a trophy!"  
  
I chose to obediently let them take off my pink jacket, there was no use in fighting them anymore. Ed shoved it into the plastic bag, retrieving something out of it at the same time. I saw whatever it was shine under the moonlight and heard a metallic sound as he shook it.  
  
"Keep him quiet so I can work on him," he instructed his friends.  
  
"I don't think he'll try to escape, it seems like he's an easy whore." Jake sniggered, nevertheless securing me by my shoulders while someone else grabbed my feet.  
  
Ed positioned himself over me, standing with one feet at each side of my hips. I was trembling shamelessly until I could see that the thing in his hand was only a can of spray-paint. They were rather childish, after all. I rolled my eyes and stayed quiet, wishing to be over with it, the cold paint seeping through the thin layer of clothe as he wrote on my white dress shirt.  
  
"Ok, done." He grinned, jumping off me. I found myself free at last, quickly getting on my feet but still frozen on the spot.  
  
"Let's go, guys." Jake beckoned them, already some steps ahead. "Have a good night, Frankie, we sure will!"  
  
"Fuck you," I cursed to myself.  
  
I watched them walk away, to where Jake had left his car. I should have been relieved that they were gone and nothing too bad had happened to me, but it was still too early to say that. The park's darkness seemed to enclose me, drunken voices could be heard not far away and the air was colder now the adrenaline was wearing off. I made my way towards the outer part of the park, following the light and escaping that solitude. Someone could murder me there and no one would know until the following morning. I glanced down at my shirt, I had almost forgotten about Ed's 'art'. The word _faggot_ was written vertically twice, in fuchsia paint. Classic.  
  
Reaching a bench I sat down, thinking of calling my mom so she could come for me. I knew she'd freak out and almost certainly wouldn't let me out of the house for a month, but right at that moment I didn't give a damn. I just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep, or die. I was sad, angry, embarrassed, heartbroken. I was furious at myself for being so stupid.  
  
If that hadn't been enough, as I patted all my pockets in search of my phone I came to a terrible realization: it was in my pink jacket. Just imagining what those four assholes could do with it brought me to my limit. I hugged my knees and began to cry, those sobs I had been repressing exploding from deep inside my chest out of my open mouth. I bit my arm, wanting to keep it low. It only caused me to choke. What a view I must have been, what a pathetic view. And this was supposed to be prom night.


	2. Gerard.

"Gerard! Aren't you ready yet? You're five minutes late, I'm not surprised you can't keep any girlfriend!" my mother's voice echoed through the corridor, making me flinch and almost stab my eye with the eyeliner.  
  
Subtlety was definitely not one of her best traits. She wasn't a bad mom, not at all, maybe just too direct. _Painfully_ so.  
  
"Thanks for using 'keep' instead of 'get', mom!" I shouted back. She had been nice this time, I had to admit, must be the special occasion. "And I need five more, already texted Rachel so she knows I'll be a little bit late."  
  
"A little bit..." I heard her repeat.  
  
I decided to forget about my mother's protests and attend to my disastrous nervous state. I wasn't taking so long because of my clothes, my hair, or my general appearance. I just need some extra time to calm down, for my hands to stop sweating and trembling.  
  
My clothes were fine. It wasn't what I'd normally wear, but I didn't mind a suit if needed. I would have probably chosen something less conventional, yet I thought that I owed my parents the opportunity to opine. I hadn't been the best of students and I was graduating two years later. Although not pleased with how I had wasted the first years of high school -lazing away, they had still trusted me when I said I wanted to change and do things well to be able to go to college and study art. It was fair to let them see me in a suit if that made them happy. Even if at the new school I was still a loser. Even if the fucking suit made me look square. I had lost some weight, just not enough to look good in _that_. It didn't worry me anyway, I guessed it would be okay without the jacket once I was out of my mother's sight. And I did like the red tie.  
  
Hair...I honestly didn't care. I liked my black-dyed mane long and messy. Rachel liked it long and messy -so she said. Mom would hate it, but I wasn't going to give up on that one. Make up was fine, subtle. A red rose for Rachel? Check.  
  
I was ready, my head wasn't. What was my issue? I liked Rachel. I wasn't _in love_ with her, but I liked her very, very much -which should suffice for the moment.  
  
I thought I'd heard wrong when my brother Mikey said his girlfriend had told him that Rachel liked me too. Then I thought it was a joke when I found out I had not only heard correctly, but she also expected me to invite her to the prom. I didn't even want to go, I wasn't one for social events. On the other hand, it was a good chance to hook up with someone. I'd had a boyfriend once and it didn't last. I was just as interested in girls, the problem being that they weren't interested in _me_. So when I waited for her after school and mumbled my proposition, I was sure she would laugh in my face. She didn't, she had said 'yes' and pecked my lips before walking away. I thought I was dreaming until Mikey pinched my ass and made me jump three feet off the ground.  
  
I needed to believe and accept that luck had finally knocked on my door. I had a date and was going to our prom with her.  
  
"Gerard Way," I spoke to my reflection, "grow some balls, move your fat ass and go for Rachel NOW."  
  
To the count of three I was out of my room with the rose in one hand and the car keys in the other. Any other day, I would have crossed the door quicker than if chased by a pack of hungry wolves to escape what was waiting for me in the living room. Tonight, however, any excuse to delay the meeting was good. Okay, maybe not _this_ one.  
  
"Dad...I don't want pics. You know I _hate_ anyone taking pictures of me, I never look good in them. It's just awful."  
  
"Oh come on, Gerard!" my mom insisted, a hand on my shoulder as she maneuvered me to where she wanted me: in front of the unlit fireplace. "You don't have to look at the picture afterwards, we're not going to force you."  
  
"Ha-ha. Sure, because I'll be able to avoid looking at it once you frame it and hang it over that ledge which is the first thing you see when entering the house," I retorted.  
  
"Son, we've waited too long for this moment, now stay quiet!" Dad aimed the camera at me, but mom stood in the middle.  
  
"Wait! Let me fix his hair!"  
  
"Leave my hair alone!" I groaned and pushed her hands away. "Weren't you rushing me some minutes ago?"  
  
"You said you texted Rachel."  
  
"Well, yeah, but now I _really_ have to leave. You want me to keep this girl, don't you?" I asked in a bored tone, knowing her answer. Just as I thought, she assented and stepped aside, allowing my father to perpetuate my current image forever.  
  
******  
  
It was good that Rachel lived only six blocks from me; I didn't trust my shaky self on the wheel. I would feel better once she was with me in the car and I had the complete certainly that it was real.  
  
I parked my black car -an old, but still decent one- in front of the light blue house and took three deep breaths in a row. That morning, Rachel had called and told me that when picking her up, I should wait for her in the car. I thought that was weird and kind of impolite, but she explained that her parents were a nuisance and she didn't want them to embarrass me with all their questions. I wasn't sure of how she would convince them of letting her out without meeting me if they were that bad, but being spared of such a stressful step made things easier for me, so I didn't ask.  
  
After honking, I only had to wait three minutes for her to appear. I could hear my heartbeat getting louder and louder; it deafened me and stunned me, and Rachel had reached the car by the time I reacted. I clumsily unlocked the passenger door, got off the car and ran to the other side to help her in, holding the door until she had fit and adjusted her dress properly in the seat -just as my father had instructed me to do.  
  
"Thanks, Gerard, you're such a gentleman!" She giggled.  
  
Back behind the wheel, I found myself smiling like an idiot at the girl beside me. Rachel was beautiful, and she was going to the prom with me. It was real. She was wearing a strapless purple dress made of a silky fabric; the skirt -which reached her ankles- was ample, but not exaggeratedly so. Semi-high heeled sandals of an almost identical shade covered her feet. Her reddish, dark blond hair was held up in a bun, with strategic loose curls around it and her face. The make up was light and sparkly.  
  
"You look so, so pretty, Rachel..." I blurted out while she looked through the window. I must have spoken too low, because she didn't turn around.  
  
"Why are we still here, Gerard? It's late, wake up! You can kiss me when we get to the school if that's what you're thinking about." She snapped her delicate fingers in front of my nose. Her tone wasn't annoyed, more like urgent but playful. I probably had looked funny lost in thoughts.  
  
"Oh, sorry...I wasn't going to." I started the car and pulled out of there, both of us waving at Rachel's parents who watched us from the front steps.  
  
"What were you saying?" Rachel asked some blocks later.  
  
"Uh?"  
  
"Before I told you that we should leave, I think you'd said something?"  
  
"Ah...yeah. " I gulped. "I said that you looked very pretty."  
  
"Aw, thanks! You like the dress?" I guess her question was rhetorical since she didn't give me time to respond. "I love it, I really do, but it's not exactly what I had in mind, you know? I had seen this gorgeous one of a lighter purple with some tulle in it and embroidered little flowers on the top, but my mother said she wouldn't have the money until the end of the week..."  
  
"And someone beat you at it?" I guessed, doing my best to maintain a conversation.  
  
" _Worse_ than that! Gena Madison bough it! You know the odious tall girl with the white-blond hair? I heard her describe the dress to her friends...and it was _that_ dress! And I didn't have much time to find another one I liked!" Rachel launched into a neverending monologue about clothes and shoes.  
  
I kept trying to pay attention, squeeze in a few words here and there so she wouldn't think I didn't mind -even if that had been the truth. Ten minutes later I was desperate for some silence. That's when I realised I had never given her the rose, what with my easily distracted mind and her rush to leave. While waiting for a green light, I took the flower I'd abandoned on the dashboard and offered it to Rachel, who then quit talking and stared agape.  
  
"Sorry that I forgot to give it to you right away, I'm a little nervous," I apologized, thankful that it was night and I was forced to look ahead. I knew I was blushing.  
  
"Oh, it's okay, thanks!" she chirped happily, only to go back to the fashion subject. As much as I wasn't a dancer, I was willing to dance if that meant no more dress-talk.  
  
Rachel's one-sided conversation had helped dissipate my nerves, but they returned as soon as I spotted the school and the golden-lettered sign above the huge wooden doors welcoming us graduates.  
  
This time, though, I was alert enough to move fast and be there to open the door for Rachel. She accepted my hand with a smile and stood beside me as I locked the car, smelling the rose and eying the kids that had gathered there to gossip before entering the place.  
  
Everything felt fine, so movie-like. I turned my full attention back to her and we looked at each other. Close, so close. Her pink lips seemed to be waiting so I slowly neared mine, closing my eyes. Our mouths barely touched, grazed. I couldn't even taste her lips because they were gone, they had avoided me to instead land on my cheek for a chaste kiss.  
  
"Thank you, Gerard," she whispered, and walked away.  
  
I followed her with my eyes, saw her carefully go up the five marble steps and approach a group of our school mates. I observed her tap one of the guys -Steve Rogers- on the shoulder. The guy turned round and with a "Hi, babe!" he opened his arms to receive Rachel. She didn't hesitate to cling to his neck, and they kissed deeply and obscenely in front of me.  
  
I wanted to run, escape that humiliation, but my feet were glued to the ground. As if to make a point, Rachel stopped the kiss and looked at me with a proud grin.  
  
"Oh, and Gerard...thanks for the car ride!" And she was eating Steven's face again.  
  
I walked backwards, needing to distance myself but not able to withdraw my eyes from the scene. Everybody was laughing, stupid names were being screamed at me, but I was lost in my own head. How could I be so stupid? How could I believe her?  
  
"I'm sorry, man." Someone patted my back sympathetically. I didn't care to see who it was. With a few more steps my back collided with my car and I took cover in it, speeding away without looking back.  
  
I slowed down after a minute and replayed the scene in my mind. I became aware that I was crying, though it was mostly out of anger. I wasn't heartbroken. Sure, I liked Rachel a lot, but I didn't have any deeper feelings for her. Nevertheless, I would have _loved_ to have the chance to perhaps change that; and maybe that was, in part, what hurt. I had thought this night could be the beginning of something, and it had been nothing more than a big joke. I felt stupid, furious, abashed.  
  
I didn't want to go home and face my parents, having to tell them what an idiot their oldest son was. I didn't want my mother fussing over me or, on the contrary, implying that I had probably done something to piss Rachel off -you never knew with my mom. I didn't want to see my brother feeling guilty to have encouraged me to ask Rachel to the prom.  
  
I resorted to going to the park. The ruined, dirty park I used to go to when skipping school. It looked worse than what I remembered, dark an deserted. It wasn't a good idea to enter it at night, but I needed to be alone and pull myself together, so I opted for walking along the path surrounding the park. I strolled with my head low, tears falling on the cement floor, dirt staining my brand new shoes as they kicked pebbles. What a great prom night I was having!


	3. A Mirror Ball.

As Gerard continued his pitiful march through the worn out sidewalk, he overheard a sob that had definitely not come from him. His cheeks were wet, but he hadn't been making any sound. It was when he walked past one of the benches that he heard it louder and clear. He retraced his steps and glanced at the stone seat. A small boy was sitting there, hugging his knees and crying. The street lights let Gerard see that there were dirt and grass stains on the stranger's white shirt. His black pants were also dusty and his disheveled longish hair was adorned with leaves. The narrow shoulders shook with grieve while the kid slightly rocked back and forth.  
  
No matter how he felt himself, Gerard couldn't ignore what he'd seen. Judging by the boy's size and what could be discerned of his face, he was pretty young. Too young to be in a place like that alone.  
  
"Hey..." he tried softly.  
  
Frank had been too engrossed in his self-pity, so the faint voice coming from so close startled him. He looked up and all he could distinguish through the tears was a black suit, just like the ones Jake and his friends had been wearing. His instinct of self-preservation kicked in and he jumped back, falling off the bench with a thud. Not even registering any pain he dragged his body away from the figure standing there.  
  
"Nonono, please, leave me alone, don't hurt me..."  
  
The light filtering through the trees illuminated the kid's face and Gerard saw black stained cheeks; shadowed, bright eyes staring at him with fright. A beautiful, terrified face. Then the obnoxious fuchsia drew his attention to the boy's chest, the word _faggot_  
written there twice. Gerard felt his heart shrink.  
  
"I...I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to know if you're alright." He crouched in front of boy, offering him his hand.  
  
Before Frank could completely freak out and scream, the proximity allowed him to see the figure's round, smooth face. He didn't know him. Long black hair, tiny nose, smudged eyeliner around puffy eyes. This boy -pretty one, probably not much older than him- had been crying too. Frank didn't see him as a potential threat, so he kindly accepted the hand and permitted the stranger to pull him to his feet and then guide him back to the bench where they both sat.  
  
"Thanks..." Frank sniffed, drying the tears with his sleeve.  
  
"God...what happened to you?" Gerard asked. It wasn't the most ideal way to start a conversation, but he was being spontaneous.  
  
"Uh...failed prom night, that's what it w-was." Wording it like that took Frank to sob again, and he sucked air through his mouth to try and stop it. "Fuck, I'm such a pansy..."  
  
"No, you're not. You know, I'm here for the same reason: failed prom night. But...aren't you too...?"  
  
"...young?" Frank interrupted Gerard. "No I'm not. I'm seventeen, though I don't look it."  
  
"Oh, sorry... I'm nineteen, was kept back twice, long story. Or not so long...I was a fucking slacker," Gerard said with a hint of shame. He regretted his past stupidity. His sincerity, however, had made the other boy giggle in between sobs, so it was all good. "So...want to vent? You tell me, I tell you."  
  
"Ok." Frank did need to vent, and that pale subject inspired him confidence. "I was kind of _dying_ to go to the prom, but I had no one to go with. Then this uh...well...you saw the writing on my shirt so I guess you already put two and two together, no need to beat around the bush.... Well, this...guy I'd been crushing on for two years kissed me and invited me. But then today...instead of driving to the school he brought me here, and his friends were waiting and they all pushed me around and made fun of me and then well, what you see..."  
  
"Oh my, are you hurt? Do you need me to take you to a hospital or something?" Gerard placed a hand on the other's shoulder, worried.  
  
"N-no...they just...scared the shit outta me. I thought they'd beat me, or...or rape and...fuck, I really, really, _really_ liked this guy. I might have even been a little bit in love with him, you know?" Frank now cried harder than ever, his chest hurting with each sob. And when that complete stranger wrapped his arms around him awkwardly, he welcomed it and cried on his shoulder. He desperately needed it.  
  
Gerard didn't know what to say, he had never been too good in these kind of situations. He was surprised he had even dared go near this boy and speak to him. He reached up and took a couple of leaves out of the mop of curly brown hair that rested on his chest and began to talk. "I...I guess what happened to me wasn't so bad after hearing you. I didn't even _want_ to go to the prom, I don't like parties. But...I was told this girl was waiting for me to invite her. And I liked her, so I grew some balls and asked her..."  
  
"Did she l-leave you waiting when you went for her?" Frank broke the embrace, feeling somewhat embarrassed.  
  
"No...but when we got to the school doors, she went and kissed another guy and _thanked me for the ride_." A few new tears emerged, though Gerard realised it didn't hurt that much anymore.  
  
"What a bitch!" Frank raised his voice and then covered his mouth with a hand, afraid someone might have heard him. The last thing he wanted was to attract curious drunks.  
  
Gerard feared the same thing, so he stood up to look around. When someone touched his back, he was close to fainting in the act.  
  
"FUCK, don't do that!" he scolded the shorter boy, who was standing next to him with a piece of paper in his hand.  
  
"Sorry, this was on your back, you probably didn't notice someone put it there." Frank handed Gerard a sign that read _LOSER_ in big, bold letters.  
  
"That fucker! And I thought he truly felt sorry for me!" Gerard fumed, but then took conscience of something that sidetracked him and he shook his head, chuckling. "I can't believe we haven't introduced each other! I'm Gerard, the Loser."  
  
"Oh my God, it's true! Well, please to meet you, Gerard. I'm Frank, the Faggot. What a pair we are, right?" For the first time that night, Frank felt like he might actually stop crying. Maybe it was the fact of knowing that he wasn't alone, in more than one sense.  
  
"The Loser and The Faggot...sounds good! Someone should name a band that!" Gerard laughed, the night seeming suddenly brighter as Frank's laughter mixed with his.  
  
Gerard and Frank then filled each other in with some more details about their unfortunate night and what had preceded it. The background of their stories, you could call it.  
  
"I'm sorry to say this, Gerard, but how could you believe that lie? It was fucking obvious that she prepared it all! You say she'd never even _talked_ to you before...it was kinda dumb to fall for that!" Frank chuckled, his tears now dried and his mood progressing.  
  
"Oh, really?" Gerard raised his eyebrows, kind of indignant but ready to counteract. The little prick! "Then what about _you_? A guy who had always either ignored you or verbally bullied you suddenly kisses you and that's enough to trust him? Your girly crush made you lose your reasoning, my friend. That _screamed_ prank!"  
  
Frank got serious. It had been a brutal way to put it, but Gerard was right. There was nothing to say back; he'd been an idiot, simple as that. So had Gerard, though.  
  
He looked up from his hands that he had been scratching at and met the other's gaze. He was certain that contemplating himself in the mirror right then wouldn't have been much different than what he saw. Gerard's expression reflected what he felt and the other must have thought the same, because it only took them five seconds to break out laughing.  
  
Their laughing fit was lengthy. It started on the bench to end up with them rolling on the ground, doubled over and holding their bellies, breathlessly proclaiming their stupidity to whoever could hear it. Thankfully for them, if any of the dangerous people who frequented that park came to check what the bustle was about, they hadn't stayed. Chances are, they'd presumed that the two formally-dressed guys laughing and screaming on the grass -at night and in that place, had to be far more wasted and stoned than they were. Either that, or they had broken out of an asylum, therefore not being the best people to instigate.  
  
When the hilarity of their situation quietened down, Gerard and Frank were too tired to get up. Their bodies hurt as if they had been exercising. Panting, they shared an understanding look and a last giggle. Frank had momentarily forgotten about his stabbed heart and the park didn't seem that creepy. Gerard's pride was healing and he hadn't interacted this much with anybody in years.  
  
They remained there, looking at the stars as they asked questions and got to know each other. They did that for hours, although to them it felt like time flied by.  
  
Frank found out that Gerard was bisexual, but liked to refer to himself as "someone who could find beauty and sexual appeal on people regardless of their gender." He'd only had sex with a guy so far -and he refused to give details about it. He also heard about the older boy's meticulously organized collection of horror movies that he'd promised to let Frank see, "but not touch, they're _my babies_." He lived with his parents and his younger brother, had his room in the attic and a Great Dane called Minnie. He loved drawing, painting, writing, comics and classical music as much as heavy metal. Gerard had gone to his same school before he was transferred, but since Frank was two years younger they hadn't coincide.  
  
Gerard listened to Frank comment that he had never been able to feel girls as anything else than friends -they were the best at that, though. He was a "cock enthusiast," even if he "hadn't dared go past the theory and _visual lessons_ and into the practical stage." Yes, he was a virgin, he just hated that term. He currently collected vinyl records and shows flyers, but confessed to have had a secret passion for Little Ponies when younger. "I _could_ let you see them, but then I'd have to kill you," he'd told Gerard. His parents were divorced and he lived with his mom and his chihuahua Beast. Frank's favorite things to do were playing guitar, reading, and taking pictures of trees and animals. His preferred music was punk rock, but he could listen to nearly anything.  
  
Frank could sense the wetness of the grass soaking his back. He sat up and hugged his torso, trying to hide that he was shaking. He didn't want to ruin the moment, he enjoyed hearing Gerard speak. There was something poetic and soothing about him and his voice.  
  
Gerard was still laughing at the very special way in which Frank expressed himself -half childish, half cocky, with a little bit of insanity thrown in there. He moved his hands around a lot while speaking, they had that in common. The small boy had sat up now, he noticed. He was waiting for Gerard to go on about that last zombie movie he had seen, but looked far from comfortable. His teeth chattered.  
  
"Are you cold, Frankie?" he asked. He had gotten permission to call him that, and smiled as he said the nickname. It fitted him.  
  
"Uh...a little," Frank admitted, loving how his nickname sounded when Gerard said it. "I think my shirt got too wet..."  
  
It was a mystery why Gerard was having such quick reactions this night, but he didn't doubt it a second; he took off his jacket and put it around Frank's shoulders. "Take, it's kinda humid too, but better than nothing. I look like a black fridge in it anyway."  
  
"Thanks." Frank's cheeks burned in spite of how cold he felt. "And you don't look like a fridge, you fuckhead! You look...fine," he added, punching Gerard's arm. He was refraining from calling him beautiful just because he didn't want to freak him out.  
  
"If you say so..." Gerard rolled his eyes. Frank was too nice to admit it was true, of course. Nice and beautiful, he though, watching the kid's hair fall on his face as he put on the jacket properly. It was too big for him, made him look even smaller and Gerard choked a giggle.  
  
"Shut up, I know!" Frank laughed. "I just...it's just to cover this fucking writing, I should be leaving and don't want to have the shit beaten out of me. Give that piece of paper a good use and write your address on it, so I can bring you your jacket back and..."  
  
"Curfew?" Gerard questioned. He was enthralled by Frank's frantic moves and couldn't get any more words out.  
  
"What? Oh...no! I mean...not tonight since it was a _special_ night. The thing is...that was when my 'friend' Jake was supposed to drive me home afterwards but..." Frank stopped and sniffed, that well known knot inside his chest ascending, his eyes stinging. Gerard's index finger pushed his chin up but he pulled away, shaking his head. "I'm okay, I'm fine, won't cry again, promise! I was saying that my mom is going to have an attack once she finds out what happened, and it'll be worse the later I get home..."  
  
"I _told you_ I have my car across the street, you stubborn little boy! Do you think I'm gonna let you walk home alone? And with _my_ jacket?" That last thing did the trick, and Gerard got Frank grinning. "Come on, I don't want to stay in this park any longer either..."  
  
******  
  
Gerard's arm encircled Frank's waist as they crossed the street. He didn't know where that gesture had come from, it's not that he had consciously _decided_ to do it. It was a natural desire to protect Frank, even if he had just met him. The younger boy insisted on acting brave for moments, but the first thing Gerard had seen in those bright eyes was fear and heartbreak. He couldn't fool him, and he didn't have to. He understood.  
  
Frank felt safe. It didn't make much sense, since he knew none of them stood a chance if they were mugged. Still, he felt protected with Gerard by his side, holding him.  
  
A few steps from the car, music coming out of the ajar shutters of a house made Gerard stop.  
"Oh my God, I love this song!" he screamed.  
  
"Shhh, not so loud! Bon Jovi?" Frank frowned. Gerard hadn't mentioned Bon Jovi during their music talk...  
  
"Yep, 'Never Say Goodbye', kinda fitting for a prom night. Can I have this dance, Frankie?" Gerard asked, using his arm that was still on the other's back to bring him closer, facing him. When had he gotten so bold?  
  
Frank laughed, confused, but he laced his hands behind Gerard's neck anyway, after rescuing them from inside the too-long sleeves of the jacket. "But you said you didn't dance..."  
  
"Well, I don't usually socialize either...I guess you're my exception for both things?"  
  
"Oh, now I feel honored so I'll have to say yes. And...we _were_ supposed to be dancing right now, weren't we?" Frank pointed out. He pictured himself at the prom, pictured things as they should have been, and this time he didn't feel like crying. Jake wasn't worth it, now he knew it.  
  
"Exactly!" Gerard had begun to swing them, carefree. No one was watching closely. The trees concealed them, the cars passing by wouldn't stop for them so he felt no shame. Frank's eyes were shining and he was smiling wildly; and as if someone had known, the volume of the music increased. They were only missing... "Oh, wait!"  
  
"What..." Frank followed Gerard's hand from his back to one of the pockets of the jacket he was wearing. It hanged so loosely that he hadn't even noticed there was anything in them. He saw car keys, and new disappointment washed over him. Was the dance ending so soon? But then Gerard agitated the thing attached to the keychain. "Is that...?"  
  
"Yep! Our very own mirror ball!" Gerard's dad had given that to him two days ago, thinking it was perfect to keep his car keys during that special night. Gerard had paid no mind to it until now, when he came up with a better purpose for the little ball. The one all disco balls should have. He held it above their heads and resumed the swaying.  
  
Frank observed the street lights reflecting on the tiny ball with its even tinier pieces of glass, multiplying. The upper red headlights of a truck perfected the effect for a second. They were having his prom night, after all. He lowered his eyes now, searching for Gerard's. The older boy looked just as content.  
  
Gerard read something in Frank's eyes. He felt tempted to look lower, and those lips said even more. Would it be wrong, too soon? Would he be taking advantage of Frank's heartbreak? He appeared happy now, those eyes did seem to say 'go ahead'. They'd both had their prom night ruined. Many of their school mates were probably kissing someone they'd never thought they would kiss before -it happens. Was it fair for him and Frankie to miss that experience?  
  
Frank had seen the question in Gerard's eyes and tried to answer the same way. Why not?  
  
For the second time that night, Gerard aimed for a pair of lips. He liked these more, full and pink, nearly red without the help of lipstick. These lips didn't avoid him.  
  
Frank mentally thanked the few previous boys he'd kissed. None of those episodes had led to much -though most of times he would have wanted them to, but they had worked as wonderful practice for this night. He had the needed confidence to kiss back, his arms tightening around Gerard's neck to gain more closeness, the other's arm that held the mirror ball giving up to sneak under the jacket and rest on the curve of Frank's hip.  
  
The kiss felt right to Gerard. There was no lust, no tongues. It was only lips caressing lips out of need, for comfort. It was their revenge somehow, but the same there was innocence in it, and they did enjoy it beyond any meaning behind it. It was their personal, inter-school, humble prom night. It was the end of a chapter, and it definitely already felt like the beginning of something.  
  
Frank broke the kiss, took Gerard's hand -the mirror ball in between their palms, and walked them to the car. "You know, I have a better idea than bringing you your jacket back tomorrow. Why don't you come to my house now? I kinda need moral support while I tell my mom what happened, and then I'm sure she'll feed us. I'm starving."  
  
Usually, Gerard wouldn't have agreed; but Frank's smile was worth one more exception.


End file.
